Dom's Baby Read online

  I look up at him and realize I’m crying. There are tears in my eyes.

  “How could you?” I shout. “You said you were—”

  “I never said I was on the other side. I just told you to wave. You assumed it was me.”

  “You didn’t even watch me?” I ask, feeling hurt and betrayed.

  He shakes his head.

  I punch him, hard, in the gut, but it feels like punching a brick wall. His hard abs deflect me effortlessly, and he grabs hold of my wrist, holding it up.

  “Listen,” he hisses. “What do you feel right now?”

  “I feel like I fucking hate you!” I say, fighting his grip to try to break free. Completely failing at so much as moving his arm a few inches.

  “You’re hurting my wrist,” I hiss.

  “Stop moving then.”

  I stop moving, and I realize he’s not really hurting me at all. I was hurting myself.

  “Tell me what you feel,” he says. “What is that feeling driving this anger? That feeling so deep inside you?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, unwilling to think about it.

  “You just exposed yourself fully and completely to two complete strangers. They got off on it. Didn’t they?”

  Jesus. Why?

  “Fuck you,” I say.

  He grins at me. “It’s shame, Madrigal. I gave you what you asked for.”

  My heart is pounding. My blood feels like it’s burning on fire, and I feel... I feel alive. Like I never have before. I’m not angry, I’m... I don’t even know what this feeling is. It’s like a drug. It’s like something I need. I want more of it.

  My lip trembles, and he grins down at me. He can tell what I’m thinking. He knows.

  “You like it,” he says. “And now, do you trust me to give you even more?”

  “More…” I whisper. “More shame?”

  He nods.

  “I trust you,” I say.

  “Going forward,” Dominick says. “There will be a safe word. I’m going to be dominating you, Madrigal. You have to give up control for that to work. The only control I will grant you is the power to end this all at once. With one word. If you say that word, it’s over. I stop. The train grinds to a halt. Do you understand?”

  I nod.

  “Only that word,” he says. “‘No’ will no longer mean ‘no.’ And ‘stop’ will not make me stop. Only this one word has that power. Choose the word.”

  I look up at him in awe. Everything he’s saying has me longing for what’s next. I don’t even need the word, I’ll never use it. But he won’t go on until I say it, so I tell him: “Riding on dragons.”

  “That’s three words,” he says, “But it works. Only say that phrase if you mean it, Madrigal, it will break the spell entirely.”

  “I understand,” I say.

  “Now,” he says, “I’ve not really touched you.”

  I look skeptically at his hand clenched around my wrist, then back up at him.

  “What I mean,” he says. “Is I’ve not touched you.” He looks down at my soaked panties. “You should know, I’ve been tested before I was assigned to you. I’m clean. And so long as I’m working with you, I touch only you. Understood?”

  I nod, feeling relief wash over me. I worried he was splitting his time between me and other women. That I wasn’t special.

  “Now,” he says, “Relax as much as you can.”

  That phrasing worries me, so I tense up. I realize I’m standing almost naked in front of him, and he finally lets go of my wrist.

  “You’re still tense,” he says.

  “I…” I start, but he presses me into the wall. My back slams against it, the doorframe digging into my shoulder blades.

  He leans forward, and my lips part involuntarily. His lips press against mine, and his tongue slides in.

  I moan as he kisses me. I run my hands up and down his strong back as his wet and warm tongue massages mine.

  He flips me around, pressing my face against the wall and biting my ear between his teeth.

  I start to melt beneath him as he licks my ear. I imagine this man doing so much more than impregnating me. I try to imagine his perfect white teeth by candlelit dinner, his cocky swagger as he comes home with flowers in his hand on my birthday—

  His finger sliding into my ass.

  His finger is sliding into my asshole.

  My eyes widen in shock, and by the time I clench up he’s already inside.

  “Dominick!”

  “A woman like you...” he whispers into my ear as he holds my back with his hand—the hand that doesn’t have a finger in my asshole—“would be ashamed of liking this.”

  He slides it further inside me, and I’m surprised at just how warm it feels going inside me. He must have lubricated it somehow while I was daydreaming of going on all these romantic dates with him.

  I moan as he slides his finger back and forth.

  “Good, Madrigal,” he says. “Way less tense than I expected.”

  “I don’t…” I stammer. “I don’t do this—”

  “You do what I tell you,” he says, sounding short and impatient with me. “And I tell you to enjoy this.”

  I lean my head against his strong shoulder. His shirt feels cool against my skin, but his body heat quickly eats away at that coolness.

  He pulls me away from the wall then presses between my shoulders until my hips jut out and pushes my upper body down into an arch. Then his finger slides deeper still into my ass, and his other hand reaches up and cups my bare breast, toying with my nipple.

  “You have a beautiful body, Madrigal,” he whispers into my ear as he slides his finger in and out.

  I whimper as he tweaks my nipple, his finger moving faster inside me. The taboo feeling of being penetrated there has me burning from the inside out in the best way.

  “My job,” he says, “which I will enjoy immensely, is to get this beautiful body to fulfill its intended purpose.”

  He squeezes my breast for emphasis. “These big breasts should be full of milk.” His fingers graze my nipples, and I shudder.

  “And these hips,” he says, his hand sliding down my waist and onto my ass cheek, “They’re so wide, perfect for giving birth to a nice healthy baby.”

  Normally I’d almost cry at someone talking to me like this. After trying and failing for so long, talk like this would just make me upset and feel hopeless, but Dominick sounds so confident that I begin to really envision it.

  “And if your pussy is too tight,” he rasps. “Then I’ll just have to loosen it up with my cock.”

  His finger moves faster and faster in my asshole, and just as I start to feel comfortable, another slides in and stretches me wider.

  “Jesus.”

  “You like this,” he says, and each time his fingers go knuckle-deep, his hand slaps loud against my thick ass cheeks. “You love it, don’t you? I see how wet you are. Your pussy is fucking soaking.”

  I’m moaning with abandon. I don’t know if he expects me to answer, but hearing him talk like that makes me feel so good. The feeling of shame is there, of course it is with two fingers in my ass, but the way he touches me lets me know he likes it. It reassures me. He talks to me as if I should feel ashamed, but he touches me in a way that makes me feel like more than a woman. He makes me feel as if I am the perfect woman—the ideal.

  I start to rub my clit, but Dominick slaps my hand away. “No, Madrigal, I want you to let go enough that you cum, just like this.”

  I put my hand back against the wall and bite my lip. I focus on his fingers sliding in and out of my tight hole.

  “Good,” he says. “Now I know your mind is wandering, so I’m going to guide you.”

  I clear my mind as I wait for his orders.

  “I want you to imagine yourself on the other side of that mirror. I want you to imagine how that man saw you as you walked in.”

  I try to do it, but it’s hard. I imagine the man watching me enter, but it strains me, and the vis
ion is vague—much vaguer than my time with Dominick.

  “He’s a man, Madrigal,” Dominick says, his hand still slapping against my ass cheeks as he stretches me. “Where do his eyes go as you walk in?”

  I imagine his eyes going down and locking on my ass as I enter. My hips sway as I walk, and draws his eyes.

  I moan, and he growls with approval.

  “Then you do what?” Dominick asks, “I wasn’t there.”

  “I take my belt off,” I whine through my moans.

  “Walk me through it,” he says. “Tell me what he sees and thinks.”

  His fingers slide up into me, and he stops moving. He just leaves his fingers buried in my ass, which feels amazing, but now that he’s not moving, my moans subside and I can speak.

  “I… he, I mean, he watches me take off my belt, and—”

  “He’s with a woman, right?” Dominick asks, and he wiggles a finger just enough that a stifled moan escapes me.

  “The woman undoes his belt as I undo mine. Then... then she pulls his cock out.”

  “Is it hard?” Dominick asks. “

  I nod. “He got hard as soon as he saw me walk in, because he knew what I was going to do, and he gets off knowing that I don’t know he’s watching.”

  Dominick laughs.

  “When I undo the buttons on my shirt,” I whisper, “The woman looks at him and taunts him. She asks him if he likes big breasts.”

  “Does he?” Dominick asks, sliding his two fingers in and out of me ever so slowly.

  “He doesn’t answer,” I say. “He just laughs at her and watches me, hoping I’ll take my shirt off. But I don’t. I just lay down on the bed and start touching myself with my jeans still on. That annoys him, a bit, but it makes him hungrier for more. The woman starts to stroke his hard cock as I finger myself, and his hand wanders down between her legs. She’s wearing a skirt.”

  His fingers move slowly in and out, and the stimulation powers me through this mental exercise. I start to really feel like I’m in the stranger’s head, and I see myself from the outside in a way I never have before.

  “He swats the woman’s hand away when I take too long. He doesn’t want to cum until I do. He starts to focus on fingering her. She can last longer than him, and he wants to edge.”

  “Like you are now,” Dominick whispers into my ear, his fingers’ movement keeping me wet and horny as ever, but not bringing me far enough to cum.

  “When I finally tear off my shirt, his cock is about to explode,” I say. “So he forces himself to wait, because he knows I’m still not there. He likes the contrast—he’s forcing himself not to cum, while I’m struggling so hard to make myself cum. He turns toward the woman and kisses her, squeezing her breasts because he remembers her earlier comment. He wants her to feel loved. They love each other, I think.”

  “They are married,” Dominick says.

  I don’t know if it’s true. If he knows who the couple is, or if he’s just feeding my fantasy.

  “The woman is close to cumming now, so they both focus on kissing, they are just waiting for me. When I finally get my pants off, they look back at me with renewed focus. They watch intently as I overcome the block, and when my hips start bucking up, they lose it. The man shoves the woman against the window, and he rams his cock inside her. He starts to fuck her hard from behind as I scream and moan.”

  “Good, good,” Dominick hisses. “You’re making so much progress, Madrigal, you’ll be done with me in no time.”

  A pang of terror hits me when he says that, but I suppress it. I go back into the man’s head.

  “He thrusts in and out as he watches me start to cum. When he can tell I’m hitting my climax, he fucks her as hard as he possibly can. His hips slam her like a jackhammer, and he explodes inside her just as I twitch and tremble.”

  Then I remember what I actually saw.

  “Wait,” I say, “No, he pulls out, and she turns around to face him. She presses her breasts together. They aren’t big enough to have any cleavage unless she presses them together. She’s self-conscious still because of how big mine are, but then he blows his load all over her chest, and that makes everything better for her. She’s happy and fulfilled because he looks down at her tits just as he cums, instead of at me.”

  Dominick’s fingers slide faster in and out, and I realize I’m actually going to cum even though my clit and pussy aren’t being touched at all. I buck my hips against him, and suddenly the sensation intensifies ten-fold.

  “Ahhh! Fuck!”

  “Don’t talk me through it,” Dominick says, his voice punctuated by exerted grunts. “Just see it in your head.”

  When the mirror switches and I can see them, they both are fully satisfied. She came already, just before I did, and then he came on her chest. Now they look at me, and they feel a connection with me. We all came together, and all the tension between us has resolved itself. I still felt deathly ashamed, but it’s resolved itself now that Dominick walked me through it.

  Then the orgasm hits me.

  I scream, and I reach for my clit as soon as I do, Dominick squeezes my wrist and pins it to the wall.

  His fingers pound my asshole, and I sway my hips back and buck my hips against him furiously to increase the friction and force of penetration. My pussy juices are dripping down my thighs, and the whole hallway smells like sex.

  “Let that beautiful body cum hard, Madrigal,” Dominick whispers. “Cum hard for me.”

  I cum harder, and harder, hot electricity and cold fire surges through every part of me. Through my veins and up into my brain. I scream, and then when I realize the couple is still in the room, the orgasm obliterates my entire consciousness.

  I come out of the other side laughing, crying. They hear me! They can fucking hear me cumming like there’s no tomorrow as Dominick fingers my asshole. Maybe they are fucking each other again? Or maybe he’s just stroking her body gently, caressing her breasts so that she knows she’s loved, but either way they can hear me.

  I scream louder for them, and Dominick laughs as he spanks me with his free hand.

  When my orgasm is over, my body is weak and trembling, he slides his fingers out of me, turns me around to face him, and kisses me deeply and with abandon.

  8

  Dominick

  I pull away from her lips. I shouldn’t have kissed her.

  She just looked so damn…

  Check yourself, Dominick.

  It’s not allowed to fall for a client. I am but a slave, I’m not meant to have feelings.

  Which reminds me.

  “Come with me,” I say, grabbing Madrigal by the hand.

  I look down at her naked body. I really am losing it.

  “I mean,” I say, “Go get dressed, then come with me. I’ll wait here.”

  She looks nervously toward the bedroom.

  “The couple is gone,” I say. “No one is watching you.”

  “Oh,” she says, sounding almost disappointed.

  Shame should be a harder block than this. According to my training, it should take a lot more work than this. Madrigal was so hung up on it at first, but she’s fucking feeding on it now, like a drunk who can’t stop drinking once he’s taken a sip.

  I watch her ass sway as she steps into the bedroom. I lean against the wall and cross my arms as I wait for her to get dressed.

  I could fuck her now. I don’t know if I’ve cleared the block entirely, but I could fuck her now. There’s a decent likelihood it could work, but it would be wiser for me to save up my seed. I haven’t cum in a few days, and all of this work with Madrigal is building up a serious load. I should save it for her, to fill her up with and maximize her chances of having a baby. I should do some more work on removing her block before I empty that load into her.

  She comes out fully dressed, but her hair is totally disheveled and frazzled.

  “Come here,” I order, and I reach into her purse without asking permission. I find her brush and pull it out. “Turn a
round.”

  I push her back against the wall, right in the same position where I fingered her ass, and I pull her hair back as gently as I can. This is the other side of the coin. First dominate, then soothe. I brush her hair with the utmost care, starting from the very bottom and working my way up inch by inch toward her scalp. I slowly clear all the tangles without breaking a single hair, and I run one hand gently across the skin on the nape of her neck as I brush her hair.

  She purrs for me as I tend to her hair. Her body is totally still and pliable. No signs of shaking or trembling or fear. She’s making such quick progress... I’ll be done with her soon.

  I find myself frowning, but I shake my head and finish with her hair. “You’re good now,” I say, placing the brush back into her purse. “Come with me now.”

  I take her by the hand and down the stairs. We go down the hallway, and I take her into the office. It’s not my office, just the office. I rarely see any of my co-workers or superiors—we’re simply given various offices or locations to work with via text message. It’s set so that we don’t run into anyone. The couple who watched Madrigal was sent an hour earlier to consult with me. I don’t know who in the organization finds couples like this, how—or if—they are paid, or any of the logistics. I just put in a request for a “couple to watch,” and hours later I’m told where they’ll be.

  I pull the folder out of the drawer and slide a chair over for Madrigal to sit down. “This is the contract.”

  “I heard about this,” she says. “It says you’re clean, and that the baby won’t be yours.”

  I nod.

  This is my first job. I’m not supposed to tell a client a detail like that, but I just finished training with the master. I’m being watched closely on this assignment, and I need to do everything by the book.

  The idea of one of my kids existing in the world but having nothing to do with me will be the hardest part to stomach. The master has promised me they’ll help me through it, but now that I’ve met Madrigal, the idea of letting that kid go is harder than I could have anticipated.

  “You’re supposed to read it alone,” I say. “On your own time.”